Anecdotes from the Modern Malfoy's
by Selene Illusinia
Summary: Sequel to "Twisted Time". A series of short stories concerning Draco's daughter Harmonia and the other crazy adventures of her family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a sequal to **_Twisted Time_**. The collection of stories posted here will focus on Harmonia's time at Hogwarts and the antics which follow. Hope you enjoy.**

**- Illusinia**

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><p>A flurry of paper, books, and clothing lay scattered around the room and various pieces of furniture, hiding the fact that this space was <em>actually a bedroom<em>. It resembled a storm-ravaged landscape at the moment. And in a cleared circle at the "eye" of the storm sat a girl with bushy brown hair, bright brown eyes, and an almost frazzled appearance.

Draco chuckled lightly at the sight. "You know, school doesn't start for another week Princess. You don't have to pack all at once."

The chocolate eyes never lifted from the worn book which lay open in the 11 year old's lap. "I know Father. But I want to be prepared! There is so much to consider..."

A bright smile bloomed at his daughter's impatient eagerness. "Well, maybe I can help Harmonia. I did attend Hogwarts myself after all."

The little girl paused in her reading then nodded as her eyes finally left the book. "That would be wise. Do you remember what books the library has?"

"Well, not ALL the books..." replied Draco. "But some, yes. I know, for example, they have a copy of their own history book so you probably don't need to bring yours."

Her eyes grew wide. "I but mine has earmarks of my favorite parts and margin notes of things I want to see!"

"Harmonia!" exclaimed Draco with a laugh. "You're just like your mother!"

She pouted in response. "I just want to be prepared!"

"You'll be plenty prepared Princess," assured Draco with a soft chuckle.

"How do you know father? What if I forget something important?" questioned Harmonia insistently.

Draco shook his head as he waded towards his daughter's clothing-strewn bed. "Then we'll owl it to you."

Harmonia was still outing as he began to examine the objects laid out next to her trunk. Most were mundane objects: books, clothes, and other necessities. A glint of silver and green caught his eye, and Draco nearly choked.

"Harmonia, Princess, isn't it a bit early to decide your house?" questioned Draco as he lifted his old green and silver cloak from Haromia's bed.

She barely glanced at the object before shrugging off her father's comment. "I have about a 3-in-1 chance of getting to wear it, assuming I have a 25% chance of getting into any house. Which, given I'm a quarter muggle, is a generous assumption. In reality, I probably won't be sorted into Slytherine which means a higher chance I can wear that cloak."

Harmonia's logic sometimes confused Draco. He knew his daughter was easily twice as intelligent as him. And that was generous to his own intelligence. As a result, it often took him a moment to determine what his daughter was saying. This time his mind drew a blank.

"I'm sorry Harmonia, but can you run that by me one more time?"

Harmonia sighed slightly, but the smile she game him proved she wasn't actually annoyed. "If I must. It works like this Father: I hate most of the students bound for or currently in Slytherine and they hat me. So, if a "tainted" individual like me wears their _precious_ colors of purity, its like spitting in their faces, only far more sanitary."

Draco mulled over what his daughter had said for a moment. "So you are planning to wear my old cloak to spite the students you hate?"

Harmonia nodded. "If they're going to say nasty things about Mother, than all bets are off."

Anger briefly bristled across Draco's face before he settled and reminded himself that his _family_ was worth more than any amount of wizarding purity. "You are going to start a fight within the first week of school."

Harmonia shrugged. "Only if I'm put in Slytherine. Otherwise I give it two weeks."

All Draco could do was laugh.

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><p><strong>AN: Please review regardless of if you like it or hate it. However, if you hate it, please be constructive. "You suck" or anything with the word "suck" in general doesn't qualify as constructive.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, a few quick notes on the time line if you will, please. The following are the ages I'm working with in relation to this story. These should be about the same as what the books would produce. This has been done using approximations and the birth orders I was able to dig up online. If I've made a mistake, I apologize. If some of the individuals seem too close in age, again, I apologize.**

**Teddy: 1998**

**Victorie: 2001**

**Fred II: 2002**

**James: 2003**

**Dominique: 2003**

**Harmonia: 2004**

**Roxanne: 2004**

**Molly: 2004**

**Louis: 2005**

**Scorpius: 2006**

**Albus: 2006**

**Rose: 2006**

**Hugo: 2007**

**Lucy: 2007**

**Lily: 2007**

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><p>Draco sighed as he stood on Platform 9 and ¾ , watching the smoke from the Hogwarts express twist up towards the sky. It was actually a beautiful day in London; not a cloud hung in sight. Beside him, he could hear Marsella talking quietly with Harmonia, her voice level but reassuring. Not that he had missed the fact that Marsella was worried about sending their daughter to Hogwarts. Having never been formally trained but still somehow managing to master wandless magic, his wife wasn't sure how she felt about everything that was happening. And Draco found he really didn't blame her.<p>

It didn't help that they'd be facing Scorpius going off in barely two years either. Draco was less worried about sending Scorpius than Harmonia. Sending his son off to Hogwarts? Not an issue. He knew exactly what his son would face. Sending his princess off? Well, it was going to kill him. Still, he needed to try to sooth Marsella's nerves. He knew their daughter would be well cared for- the teachers were good and he knew none of them would allow her to be hurt. It was against the school's policy. She'd be fine, just fine. Now, all he needed to do was believe that. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to refocus on soothing Marsella's nerves.

"Marsella, dear, relax," encouraged Draco gently, one hand reaching out to wrap around his wife's shoulders. "Everything will be fine. I promise."

Marsella huffed a little, shooting a faint glare at her husband. "You keep saying that Darco, and yet whenever I ask about your time there-"

"I went there during a very different time," reminded Draco, voice level. He'd learned very quickly that if he stayed calm, Marsella would as well.

True to pattern, she relaxed a little more. "I know. And you keep saying that, but that doesn't mean I won't worry until she's safely back home this summer."

"Mummy, don't worry," reassured Harmonia gently. "I'll be fine. Promise."

"So you keep saying," stated Marsella with a sigh. Releasing their daughter's shoulders, his graceful Italian wife stood with her worried eyes still pinned on Harmonia. "Isn't your father the one who's supposed to be worried about you while I remain calm?"

"Something like that," confirmed Darco, dropping a kiss to his wife's forehead before picking up Harmonia's trunk. He was infinitely grateful that Marsella's mother had come to visit- if Scorpius was here too, it could be a real mess. He loved his son, but he knew the little boy was protective of his sister and didn't like the idea of her leaving home before he did. He'd already promised to flue up and beat anyone who teased his sister into the ground. "Alright, I'm going to get Harmonia settled on the train. I'll be back quickly."

"Alright," sighed Marsella, opening her arms to her daughter. "Harmonia, give me a hug before you get on that train."

"Yes, Mum," confirmed Harmonia, throwing her arms around her mother. "And don't worry, I'll stay safe."

"I know you will," agreed Marsella as she released her daughter. "And remember, you can always flue your father and I if you do have problems."

"I know," assured Harmonia with a grin as she pulled away and started running towards the nearest car. "Bye Mummy!"

"Bye Harmonia," called back Marsella.

Darco smiled at the sight, squeezing Marsella's shoulders once more before moving towards the train. "I'll be back shortly, dear." And he would be too. He knew being around wizards and witches made Marsella nervous, even though she could probably, untrained, beat many of them. It was still foreign to her. Swearing up and down that he'd return as quickly as possible, Draco hurried after his excited daughter.

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><p>Harry waved as he watched James climb on board the Hogwarts Express, grinning as James grinned back before disappearing into the depths of the car. Hopefully he'd catch up with his friends and stay out of trouble this year. Well, not get caught as much this year. Hoping his son wouldn't get into trouble was completely pointless.<p>

He could hear Ron further down the platform, partially present to fill in for Ginny, who was at home with a feverish Albus and sniffling Lily. Even if that hadn't been the case though, Ron would have come to see James off. It would be a few years still until Rose went to Hogwarts, but his best friend always came along to see James off. The rest of his family typically didn't- largely because his wife saw no point and didn't want Rose and Hugo down there before absolutely necessary. His best friend never argued, which maybe said something about the state of his marriage. Harry tried to stay out of it, but he knew Ron wasn't as happy as he would have been with Hermione.

Hermione, their best friend. Her disappearance still haunted them. It wasn't even really so much her disappearance even that bothered them- it was the fact that she'd never bothered to tell them why. Her note was useless.

Turning from the tracks, Harry opened his mouth to speak to Ron, only to freeze. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him, they just had to be. What he was seeing was impossible. And yet, even as he watched, he saw the woman down the tracks fold her arms under her chest as Hermione had so often when waiting. He watched as she pushed some of her curly, bushy brown locks away from her face as her eyes scanned the train. Everything about her was the same; she looked the same. Identical.

"Bloody hell." Ron's whispered exclamation drew Harry's attention to his best friend. The red-head looked like he'd seen a ghost. And Harry was sure he looked the same way.

"It can't be Ron, she disappeared," reminded Harry, trying to be reasonable in this situation. There was no way the woman they were looking at was Hermione. It just wasn't possible. Everyone knew Hermione had to have died on the night following the battle; she would have come back otherwise. Right?

"Harry, look at her!" exclaimed Ron in return, gesturing to the woman almost frantically. "She looks _exactly_ like 'Mione! Who else could it be?"

"I don't know Ron," admitted Harry. "But I think we need to not jump to conclusions."

"Screw that," dismissed Ron, bolting suddenly towards the woman while shouting Hermione's name.

Harry cursed and ran after his friend, doubting more and more by the second that this woman was Hermione. Especially when she failed to respond to any of Ron's calls. She simply continued to stare at the train like she was looking for some sign or another. Then Ron threw his arms around the woman and Harry just knew things were about to get bad. He was right.

Almost immediately, the woman threw her elbow into Ron's stomach to force him back, followed by a punch to his eye which sent him tumbling backwards. Harry caught the red-head before he could hit the ground, but the woman was suddenly holding out her hand in a threatening gesture like she was holding a wand.

Something, another language, fell from the woman's lips as she waved her fingers around threateningly. Harry thought it might be Italian but he couldn't be sure; it wasn't a dialect he recognized, that's for certain. Staring at the scared woman, he wondered if there was some way to talk her down. However, before he could try, Ron came out of his shock and reached for the woman again.

"Mione! It's me! It's Ron!" stated Ron, his voice almost desperate as the woman batted his hand away and again waved her fingers about threateningly. "It's your best friend."

"I'm not this 'Mione person," stated the woman, stumbling over her words as she continued to wave her hand about. "My name is Marsella and if you touch me again I will paralyze you and throw you into the baggage compartment of the next closest train!"

"What the bloody hell is this!" A very angry, very familiar voice cut through the confusion before anyone could say more, forcing Harry and Ron's attention on the speaker. Draco Malfoy stepped down from the train with a scowl on his face; it wasn't his usual scowl of disgust though, but rather a look of absolute anger. Great, fuel to the fire. Just what they needed.

And sure enough, Draco turned almost immediately to the woman, Marsella, and lay a comforting hand on her lower back. "Marsella, love, what's going on?"

"This _idiota_ mistook me for someone else and started hugging me!" exclaimed Marsella unhappily, the fingers of her raised hand twitching. "I thought you said the wizards here would ignore me!"

"I thought they would, too," admitted Draco, making a face as his eyes narrowed at both Harry and Ron. "Would either of you care to explain why you're harassing my wife?"

"Wife?!" sputtered Ron angrily. Internally, Harry cringed. Angry Ron was inviting a fist fight and his job as a Quidditch player meant he would probably win in a brawl. "What the hell did you do to 'Mione, Malfoy! Did you brainwash her?!"

"She's not Hermione, Weasley," snapped back Draco, his face turning red. The hand on her lower back turned to an arm curled around her waist. It was only at this point the woman lowered her hand to lean on her apparent husband. "Her name is Marsella and she's from a small town in the mountains of Italy."

"You're a bloody liar!" shouted Ron, taking a step towards Darco menacingly. "She looks just like 'Mione! What did you do to her? Erase her memories? Brainwash her?! I knew you had something to do with 'Mione's disappearance!"

"I'm not this...'Mione person," snapped Marsella angrily, her own body language becoming aggressive despite her small frame. "Take one more step towards my husband and I _will_ turn you into a sheep!"

For a moment, Ron's attention fell back on Marsella, his eyes softening as he looked at her pleadingly. "'Mione, I promise, whatever this git did to you, we'll reverse it."

His hand rose slowly, reaching for the woman's wrist with care. Harry barely blinked before Ron was on the ground, frozen in place, and Marsella was standing even closer to Draco, looking shaken and unhappy.

"Shit!" cursed Harry, dropping to the ground beside Ron. "Ron, Ron! Can you hear me?"

"He can." Marsella's voice was still shaky but slowly calming, drawing Harry's attention. Seeing how scared she looked forced any anger he might have felt towards this woman away. He'd probably paralyze someone for hugging him without warning too. Except...

"You aren't holding a wand." It sounded stupid in Harry's ears, but he had to admit that he was confused. Very, very confused.

"I don't use a wand," stated Marsella simply, stepping a little further away from Malfoy now that Ron had been subdued. Harry could understand why she'd be more comfortable with Ron unable to move. "And don't worry, your friend will be fine. It's only a temporary paralysis spell- we use it on sheep all of the time."

"I'm sorry for all of this," apologized Harry with a sigh, glancing back at Malfoy to indicate the apology extended to him as well. Normally, Harry would never apologize to his former enemy. However, this particular situation was an exception- Ron had screwed up and it upset an innocent woman. That was something Harry felt deserved an apology.

"Your friend should be more cautious who he hugs," advised Marsella, kneeling beside Harry. "My knowledge of magic is limited, but it can prove dangerous in the wrong situation."

"I understand," assured Harry, shaking his head as he looked down at Ron. The man still hadn't moved. "How long does it last?"

"Half an hour at most," replied Marsella with a shrug. "As I said, we use it on sheep."

"I'm sorry he bothered you both," apologized Harry again. "I'd offer to have Ron say it himself, but I'm not sure he's thinking clearly right now."

"Likely he isn't," confirmed Marsella as she pushed herself back to her feet. Malfoy stood silently behind her, only moving to plant his hand back on her lower back when she stepped back towards him. "However, you have no reason to apologize Mr..."

"Harry Potter," greeted Harry, standing as well and offering her his hand even as he internally braced himself for the usual wide-eyed excitement. He'd been hoping his celebrity status would wear away with Voldimort's death, but so far he hadn't been that lucky.

However, Marsella just nodded as if he were anyone else in the Wizard World and shook his hand with less reluctance than he'd been expecting. "Marsella Malfoy. My apologies for paralyzing your friend, but I'm still unaccustomed to the ways of British wizards."

"I'm pretty sure this was warranted," admitted Harry, his eyes falling to Ron. "I wouldn't worry about it so long as he'll be fine."

"He will be," assured Marsella, glancing back at Malfoy curiously. "Do you know Mr. Potter, Draco?"

"Just Harry," broke in Harry. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. "Really, just call me Harry."

"Very well," agreed Marsella with a nod, her eyes flicking to Harry before turning back to Malfoy again. "Dear?"

"We went to Hogwarts together," confirmed Malfoy, though his voice wasn't as hostile as Harry had been expecting. Rumors were that the blond former-bully had undergone a massive transformation after traveling the world following the end of Voldimort. Maybe the rumors were true; his chosen wife certainly seemed unconventional. "We were in different houses though."

"I was Gryffindor and he was Slytherin," stated Harry, shrugging a bit. "My son is actually going there now."

"We just dropped our daughter off for her first year," admitted Marsella, her brow furrowing. "Is it safe? I wanted to train her at home, but Draco said that isn't how you do it here."

"You were home trained?" asked Harry in surprise. That certainly explained a few things.

"Yes," confirmed Marsella with a nod of her head. "I was home trained by my mother. I'd never even heard of these...schools until Draco showed up in our village."

"Village?" repeated Harry, his brow furrowing. "What village?"

"Marsella is from Monterosso al Mare," informed Malfoy, his fingers brushing over Marsella's back again.

She looked up at Malfoy then and said something in what was clearly Italian this time, the words flowing from her lips naturally in a way Harry realized the English hadn't. It just reaffirmed her and Draco's claims that she was from a remote Italian village and not their friend. Looking at her up close, Harry could see a lot of things about this woman that were nothing like Hermione.

For one thing, Marsella's eyes were lighter than Hermione's had been, her skin was tanner, and her hair was more curly than frizzy. And the color was significantly darker- more mahogany than chocolate. No, this woman wasn't their friend, even if she bore a shocking resemblance to the long gone genius.

"Harry, are you well?" Marsella's calm voice drew Harry's attention back to the two adults standing in front of him. They both were looking at him curiously, though Malfoy looked more uneasy than curious.

"Of course, fine," assured Harry, offering Marsella a small smile. "I was just thinking about when we would be expected home. Ron and I, that is."

"We should head home soon as well, Marsella," remarked Malfoy, running his hand a bit against her lower back. "Your mother and Scorpio are expecting us."

"Let's wait for the train to depart," suggested Marsella, her eyes turning back onto the locomotive. "Did you find a place for Harmonia?"

"I found her a carriage by herself," assured Malfoy gently. "She'll be fine, Marsella."

"Mm, if you believed that, you wouldn't be so nervous," remarked Marsella, glancing back at her husband in disbelief. "I see the nerves in your shoulders."

"If it helps, two of my nieces are on the train too," offered Harry. He couldn't be sure how much exposure Marsella had to the Wizarding world or wizards, but her reaction to Ron seemed to imply it was likely limited. If what Draco said about where she came from was true, combined with how she was raised, it was entirely possible she wasn't accustomed to wizards. More likely, she was accustomed to muggles rather than other wizards.

Marsella blinked at Harry for a moment before nodding slowly. "And you are unafraid?"

"Hogwarts is plenty safe," assured Harry, noting the way Malfoy was nodding along with what he was saying. Clearly, the other man had said the same thing repeatedly in an attempt to sooth his wife. "James was there last year and nothing bad happened to him."

Well, that was actually a lie. Plenty of mischief had been caused by his oldest son, but it wasn't anywhere near dangerous. Or at least not more so than any other school for training wizards and witches would be.

"See Marsella?" offered Malfoy, giving his wife a pleading look. "I promise it's safe."

"Do you spend much time among wizards?" asked Harry curiously, hoping to draw the worried Italian woman's attention away from her daughter's impending departure.

"Not much," admitted Marsella with a shrug, eyes returning to the train even as she continued to explain. "I have tried, but the few wizards I have met were generally not friendly individuals. Draco says he does not have nearly as many friends anymore, either. More contacts than anything else. Usually, I wonder about London with Harmonia."

"So, you spend time with muggles?" questioned Harry, a bit surprise his guess was correct. He wouldn't have thought Malfoy of all people would let his wife wonder among muggles. The man really must have changed.

"I am accustomed to humans who cannot do magic," explained Marsella, eyes finally falling to Harry. "Plus, I do not care to use magic when hard work will do as well."

"Do you see a lot of muggles at home?" asked Harry in surprise as the whistle from the Hogwarts Express cut through the station. It would be another ten minutes before the train actually went to depart; it was just a warning whistle.

"Many," confirmed Marsella, though her attention was pulled back to the train by the whistle. "Those who do not use magic come through town all of the time. We keep our magic from their sight."

"Other wizards don't always treat Marsella with the respect she deserves," added Malfoy, the clear tension in his voice obvious. "Muggles are less judgmental of her."

It was a thought that hadn't even crossed Harry's mind. Malfoy had been a traitor to most of the community, so he wouldn't be in anyone's good graces among the community Harry interacted with. And Marsella, well, he couldn't see her being welcomed in the higher circles of the wizarding community, if only because of her unorthodox training. It actually made Harry a bit sick to think she was unable to interact with the community she lived in because of who her husband is and how she was viewed.

Without much thought, Harry found himself digging into his robes for a pencil and paper. The thought that this woman wasn't getting to interact with the others in their community because she was being judged wasn't something he could just sit back and take. Malfoy had screwed up- he deserved the judgment. Marsella seemed perfectly kind though; she didn't deserve that judgment. Pulling out his prize, he quickly jotted down a number and offered it to Marsella. "I don't know if you have a phone, but here is the number for our house. If you ever want to explore the wizarding world or have questions about anything, you can call us. Either I will answer or Ginny will. We'd be happy to help."

Marsella took the number carefully, surprise in her eyes as she stared at it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," replied Harry, smiling at them both.

Malfoy sent him a thankful look, one Harry had never thought he would see. And that alone reaffirmed for Harry how much this man loved his wife. That Malfoy could feel gratitude towards Harry for just offering his wife a line outside the house spoke volumes.

A second whistle cut through the air, announcing the train's immanent departure. Students began gathering at the windows facing the platform, leaning out to wave at their parents as the locomotive pulled forward and began to chug away. James hung himself out the window, waving goodbye to his father happily.

"Draco, where is Harmonia?" asked Marsella worriedly. Harry glanced at her to find the Italian woman staring intently at the train. "I don't see her."

"She's probably got her nose in a book, Marsella," assured Malfoy gently. "You know how she is. She's still trying to memorize everything she can about Hogwarts, just so she's prepared."

"I don't understand what she must prepare for," sighed Marsella unhappily. "Are you sure she's safe?"

"Marsella," stated Malfoy gently, pulling his wife close. "I promise, she's fine. You know how Harmonia is. It was hard enough to stop her from completely exploring the manor. We have no hope of stopping her from exploring Hogwarts. Now I promise, she will be fine."

"She really will be," assured Harry, glancing at Malfoy wearily. He didn't want to overstep whatever tentative peace had settled between them. But Malfoy just nodded along in agreement. "James was there last year, and he was fine." Well, alright, fine was a relative term. James had gotten into his fair share of trouble, that was for certain. But he hadn't nearly died either. A groan drew Harry's attention downwards.

Really, it drew everyone's attention downward. It can come from Ron, who appeared to be slowly moving a little. Apparently, Marsella's statement about how long the spell would take to wear off was completely accurate. Which meant the hot-headed red-head was probably going to begin actually moving soon. And that wasn't likely to be good for Marsella.

"We should probably get home," remarked Malfoy, clearly sharing the same thought as Harry. "Scorpius will be anxious to know what happened today."

"Mm, let us not tell him I paralyzed someone," stated Marsella simply. "I would rather he not think that is alright."

"Well, he did jump at you," pointed out Harry, glancing back at the pair. "It isn't exactly unwarranted."

"No, but we shouldn't encourage it either," stated Malfoy with a nod. "He has enough issues with bullies and fights, we don't want him to think paralyzing people is a valid response. Not when he will be at Hogwarts in two years."

"True," agreed Harry, not wanting to argue with the family. Clearly, they had their reasons for not wanting their son to know about this and Harry wasn't going to argue it. Holding out his hand in their direction, he offered both adults a nod. "It was nice to meet you Marsella."

"As it was to meet you, Harry," agreed Marsella, staking his hand calmly. That was when Harry realized her hands weren't smooth: they were rougher, as if she worked with her hands frequently. It actually matched with her comment about sheep, which was one Harry would have to actually focus on later. "I hope we have reason to meet again."

"You can always call," reminded Harry. "I know Ginny loves meeting new people."

"Thank you," repeated Marsella as she released his hand and glanced back up at Malfoy.

Malfoy just nodded at Harry, animosity still wiped from his face. "Have a good day, Harry."

Harry's name was so foreign from Malfoy, it almost made him jump. Except he could tell that Malfoy was being polite for Marsella's sake. That he was trying to be more civil for her. "You too, Draco."

Nodding one last time, both Malfoy's turned away and headed for the exit from the station.

Another groan at Harry's feet drew his attention fully downward and back to his friend. Under any other circumstance, he would be scrambling to help Ron out. But this time? No, this time it was the man's own fault.

When Ron began carefully moving his legs, Harry offered him a hand up. It was pretty clear the spell would leave his friend groggy and stiff for a bit, but it was the least of what Ron deserved. It could have turned out a lot worse today. "Come on, Ron. Let's get home."


End file.
